Hiram S. Maxim is of this type. Mention his name to your neighbor, and
he will say: “Oh, yes! Maxim,—he’s the inventor of the rapid-fire gun,
the flying machine, and smokeless powder, and a lot of other things.”
That’s all he knows about him, and, very likely, it’s all he cares. But
the name Maxim is of tremendous import to every nation in the world;
it is liable to have a potential influence in changing some of their
boundaries, too. China had a good supply of rapid-fire guns when the
war broke out between her and Japan, but the brass parts had all been
stolen by traitorous Celestials, and the instruments left unfit for
use. Otherwise, the results might have been different,—who can tell?
Ask the British Government how many British lives and how much British
money was saved by the rapid-fire guns in South Africa. Also ask
the “blacks” what they think of one of them. They call it “Johnny
pop,—pop,—pop.” But these guns were small affairs. Remember what their
big brothers did for us at Santiago and Manila. I am told that they
lashed the surface of the ocean into foam.
But let us look at the man as the public sees him.
Weigh the significance of his list of titles: Chevalier of the Legion
of Honor, member of the American Society of Civil Engineers, honorary
member of the Bridgeport Scientific Society, member of the Royal
Society of Arts, of the English Society of Mechanical Engineers, of
the English Society of Electrical Engineers, of the English Society of
Junior Engineers, of the British Association for the Advancement of
Science, of the British Empire League, of the Decimal Society, of the
British Æronautical Society, of the London Chamber of Commerce, and
also recipient of decorations from the Emperor of China and several
European sovereigns.